


Lingrean

by zombiefishgirl



Series: Brigid and Sarita [14]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-13 20:55:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5716789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombiefishgirl/pseuds/zombiefishgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brigid and Sarita discuss Sarita's pet name for Brigid</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lingrean

Sarita was confused to find Brigid looking concerned in their now shared quarters. Something was weighing on her mind, she could tell but she was reluctant to say anything. It reminded her a little of how long they had spent dancing around their feelings for one another which was most definitely a state of affairs that she did not want to return to any time soon, or at all for that matter.

“Lingrean, is there something wrong?” Sarita asked softly, wanting to soothe her loves troubled spirit.

“Well…it is that…” Brigid started, she saw Sarita was still not sure what she meant so she continued. “Lingrean, your pet name for me. It is not very…romantic is it?”

Now it was Sarita’s turn to feel troubled, she had been calling Brigid Lingrean in her head for so long now, long before they confessed how they felt, it was a little dismaying to learn that she did not care for it. “Not romantic how?” She asked, not entirely sure of the issue.

“Well it means phoenix. You are calling me an odd dragon like lizard that the Orlesians think as a sign of woe. It does not exactly scream flowers and chocolate does it?”

Sarita could not help herself then, creator’s forgive her she let out a giggle stopping only when she saw how hurt Brigid looked. She gestured for Brigid to sit and pulled the book of fairy stories her mother read to her as a child out of the trunk she kept her things in.

“First of all, since when do either one of us care even a little what the Orlesians think? Second of all, that is not the type of phoenix I mean when I call you Lingrean.” Brigid was confused as Sarita rapidly flicked through the pages of her most beloved book, eventually coming to an illustration it was clear she had spent a long time looking over. Carefully she handed the book over to Brigid who studied it, enraptured.

It was a full page illustration of a bird in flight, instead of feathers though the bird seemed to be made of fire. The page was filled with reds and oranges and golds, the colours so vibrant it looked as though the odd creature might fly right off the page. Underneath the illustration in slightly faded and uncertain handwriting was one word “lingrean”.

“My mother used to read me from this book all the time growing up. Whenever I could not go and play in the forest because of the rain or I had to stay close to camp because of the humans or templars looking for the clan, when I was sick or could not sleep while the aravals were travelling. She would bundle me up in a blanket, holding me close and read to me from this book. My favourite story was always this one. It told of a lingrean but not like the real ones, this one was a bird made of fire, it was a symbol of strength and beauty and new beginnings. If it was hurt or killed it would be reborn in glorious flames but it was also kind and beautiful, even said to be able to heal the good of heart. When I first saw you from my tree, your hair like fire flying behind your shoulders, I remembered the story. Then I learned of how you ran from the horrors of your home, like a bird in flight, how you reinvented yourself, how you have experienced so much horror and pain but are still so kind and loving and gentle. Long before I told you that I love you, you have been lingrean in my heart. I am sorry if it is not conventional or as romantic as you had hoped and I can stop calling you it if you like. I just wanted you to know that I did not mean it as an insult or a dismissal. On the contrary for a long time I thought that illustration was the most beautiful thing in the world, until I saw you anyway.” Sarita was studying her hands intently, a blush to her cheeks, Brigid ran her thumb carefully over the writing beneath the picture, realising that Sarita’s mother must have written the word.

Carefully, she placed the book down on the trunk at the foot of the bed before grasping Sarita’s hands in her own. She held them up and kissed them softly. “You really thought that when you first saw me?” She asked.

“Well, yeah. Before I spotted the bear chasing you anyway.” Sarita smiled wanly, looking up for the first time. “Like I said though, I can stop calling you that if you want. I never really thought about how others might think of it…”

Brigid cut her off with a gentle yet firm kiss, their lips softly pressed together, a small sigh as she pulled back. “I don’t care what others think, now I know what it means to you, that is what it means to me. I like it, a lot in fact.”

Sarita smiled, happier once more, “Lingrean,” this time Brigid heard the way her voice softened as she said it, almost a hunt of music creeping into her voice. They kissed again, hungrier, firmer this time and Brigid lay back at Sarita’s urging, gasping as she kissed her way down over Brigid’s stomach, closer to the warm heat of her sex.

“Love, what are you doing? I have a meeting in less than a half hour…”

Sarita’s grin was positively wicked as she pressed a kiss to Brigid’s thigh before looking up, green eyes bright with mischief as she replied, “Plenty of time to make my Lingrean sing.”


End file.
